


clockwork

by mari_cheres



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe- Secret Agents, Alternate Universe- Spies, Drug Dealing, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mild Language, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, ex lovers to lovers again, mentions of drug dealing, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-19 12:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mari_cheres/pseuds/mari_cheres
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng has spent the last two years of her career trying desperately to forget Adrien Agreste. She’s taken on countless missions, saved the day countless times, and got rid of more bad guys than she can count, all in the hopes of ridding her mind of the man who once occupied every bit of it.But, paired up with Adrien once more for a mission only the two of them can do, it seems like no matter what, the two still go together like clockwork.





	1. hello

**Author's Note:**

> new fic woo let’s see how everyone feels about this oop

There was a certain thrill Marinette got whenever she worked a case, and tonight was no exception. If anything, it was a heightened one, a buzz of energy that matched the alcohol coursing through her body.

“Rena, can I get a read on the area?” Marinette asks, making sure her earpiece isn’t noticeable. She stands in a crowded ballroom, eyes scanning the floor and a glass of champagne in her hand, looking every bit like the other guests.

“Right now, you’re all good. Keep an eye on the mayor’s daughter though. We need to be ready for whatever happens, Ladybug.”

“You know I always am,” she responds, lifting her glass for a sip. A typical kidnapping situation, only instead of posing as a waiter or someone with easy access through the lavish building, she was stuck with all the guests, tight-fitting dress and high heels on, with orders to remain there and keep an eye on the major’s daughter, a spoiled socialite with more jewels than Marinette could count on her dress. Even more precious were the ones wrapped around her neck, the true reason for tonight’s venture out into the party scene.

“I can’t believe all of this is for her birthday,” she murmurs, moving her head to watch the heiress, whatever her name might be, unwrapping another box. As enjoyable as a mission could be, she felt herself getting bored the longer she stood and watched.

“She’s rich. She probably throws parties whenever her daddy gets her another black card.”

“I just wish she didn’t make us see her open up every gift she got in the center of the room. It’s like a glorified four-year old’s party here, only this time the kid _knows_ they’re privileged.”

“You complain like it’ll make time pass faster. Just try to enjoy the night, Ladybug.”

“I am,” she says, flashing fake smiles to people as they passed by. “I have champagne with me and my best friend yapping in my ear. How could I not be enjoying my night?”

“That same best friend who’s making sure you’re safe, and most importantly, _sober_ , Ladybug. Don’t forget you’re on a mission now, and one where anyone could come out and attack.”

“I know, I know. I promise, I’ll try to hold back on the drinks and- “

“Hold on, I just got something on my monitor. Ladybug… you’re not alone here.” Alya’s voice comes out worried, and Marinette looks around, eyes trained on anything near the mayor’s daughter that appears off. She ducks down, pretending to adjust the strap on her heel, but instead checks to make sure she’s armed and ready.

“Is there an enemy somewhere?” she asks, fiddling with the weapon attached to her heel strap. She wasn’t fond of starting fights in plain open with tons of onlookers but wouldn’t object if she needed to defend the mayor’s daughter.

“No. It’s worse. It’s your _ex_.”

Marinette gets back up, posture slumping and a frown overtaking her face. She brings her glass to her lips and downs it, raising it upwards for a refill from a nearby waiter, which she also drinks just as fast. Staring down at the empty glass, she sighs, not ready to deal with this new development right now.

“I don’t know if you know this, but we’re in the middle of a mission Alya, and- “

“Ladybug!” she interrupts. “Did you forget spy rule number one? Spy names _only_ while working!”

“I think we both know I forget a lot of the rules,” she says. It was true, for as good as an agent she was, she was among the worst when it came to following rules, and especially enforcing them around others. Take number seven and eight, for example.

_#7:  No dating the other agents._

_#8: Absolutely no dating your partner._

“So where is he, anyways?” Marinette asks, gazing around lazily. “Can the great Rena Rogue at least tell me so I can move along with my night?”

“What? Are you nervous to run into him?” Alya asks. She’s leaning on her computer desk, eagerly jotting down a quick note and passing it over to the person in the cubby next to her, causing Nino to let out a yelp once he reads it.

Marinette scoffs, getting the attention of another waiter. They refill her drink, Marinette taking a quick sip and nodding her head at a passing couple. “Me? Nervous? Of course not!”

“Really?” Now it’s Alya’s turn to scoff. She rolls her eyes at Nino, not believing Marinette for a second. “C’mon girl, the guy was about to _propose_. And you were going to say yes!”

“That was two years ago. Before Operation Papillion, might I add. Things change. _People_ change.” Marinette finishes the drink, telling herself to get it together and to focus. She makes her way closer to the mayor’s daughter, on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. It’s been too calm, and she feels a sense go off in her that something was about to happen, and soon.

For better or for worse, she wasn’t sure.

“So, you’re totally sure you aren’t even the slightest bit curious to see him? At all?”

“No, and you know why? Because I’m _Ladybug_ ,” Marinette says firmly. She’s had enough of the badgering and wanted to set the record straight so she could go back to focusing on her mission. “I’m Ladybug, and I’ve done more high scale missions than anyone else in the agency. I got the key to the city in four different cities with four different identities. I’m singlehandedly doing this mission tonight when it usually takes two agents. Trust me, there are dozens of other things I’m thinking about right now, and _he_ is not one of them.”

“Who’s he?” a voice all too familiar to Marinette asks, and she can’t even turn to face him before he swoops in front of her, flashing that all too charming smile and flashing that all too familiar grin.

“Adri- Chat Noir,” she says, correcting herself at the last moment. She smiles at him, feigning a diplomatic hello. She is, of course, at the biggest party of the year, and an outburst is the last thing she wants. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Ladybug,” he greets. He takes her hand and bends down to gently press a kiss, gazing up at her as he does so. “You look as beautiful as ever, you know.”

Marinette blushes, a sign that, despite the time spent apart, he still was able to get a rise out of her. She quickly pulls her hand away, his touch burning where he laid his lips.

“I thought I was doing this mission alone. You know, like I’ve been doing these days,” she says. Marinette tucks her hair back behind her ear, letting Alya into their conversation and there for any advice on what to say should she need it.

“I thought I was working alone as well,” Adrien tells her, voice lowered as a couple passes them. “But, looks like someone forgot to tell us we’d be partners.”

“Partners?” The word was strange on her tongue, after so long spent trying to forget it.

“Strange, right?” Adrien asks. “Apparently, both of our files hadn’t printed out the last paper, so we both got sent here without a clue about the other. Although, after getting the run down just now, I’m not lying when I say I’m pleased with our cover. It works out in your favor too.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’m not sure if you know this, but you stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd. With me, you’ll blend in at least.”

“Thanks,” Marinette mutters, frowning at his comment. Adrien extends his arm, and she takes it, if only to find something other than blush to do. He walks her through the crowd, gradually making their way to the edge of the room. “Glad to know where there’s glitz and glamour, there’s still a way to sniff out the poor.”

“You know what I mean,” he says, leaning down a bit to whisper in her ear. His curls tickle as they brush against Marinette’s skin, a memory stored in the back of her brain of all the times he did so before. “The snobs here don’t even come close to you. Or, down a drink as fast as you, by the looks of it, Bugaboo.”

Marinette rolls her eyes, trying hard to not show any signs that his charms are working, or the use of her old nickname. Looking over at the heiress, she trains her eyes on the jewels, before catching her eye for a second. The mayor’s daughter skims her outfit and hardly shows emotion other than a pursed lip, but when her eyes train on Adrien, she smiles and casts a small wave, one that isn’t ignored by Adrien as he waves back.

Marinette arches a brow, looking at Adrien. “So, what’s our relation to the mayor’s daughter? Or, _yours_ , should I say.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Adrien says, eyes widening. “You do remember that I’ve grown up with Chloé, right?”

 _Chloé_ , Marinette realizes, face falling flat. The mayor’s daughter. Adrien’s friend from diapers to Gucci. Homeschooled with him, and the only person he was ever allowed contact with for the first ten years of his life. Always mentioned, but never introduced to in the duration of their relationship.

“You did forget!” he exclaims, chuckling at the look on her.

“It’s been some time,” Marinette defends, unwrapping her arm from him and stepping away. “I’m bound to forget some things, Chat. Plus, I never even met the girl before tonight.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, grin on his face as he saw Marinette slip into that same old stubbornness she always had. “You’ll get to know her soon enough, I’m sure. I was planning on attending anyways before I was assigned, so it’ll be no big deal saying hi to Chloé properly later.”

“Okay, so I see why you here is the best move. But, what’s the big reason I’m here other than to down champagne?” she asks. So far, his story checked out. Grown up with the mayor’s daughter, had an invite to her birthday party and has probably met everyone in the room at least once before. She knows Adrien’s never been fond of the upper-class life, but fits in just fine when needed to, charming his way into pictures and catching the bad guy without even ruining his suit.

But hers? What could justify having the two as partners tonight? And, having to be by _his_ side?

Adrien digs in his pocket, pulling out a small object. He holds it out to her, the diamond catching every bit of light in the room.

“Don’t be silly, Ladybug. You’re Marinette, my plus-one and fiancée. Not too hard of a role to play, right?”

“You’re kidding,” she says, taken aback at the sight of the ring. It’s the same as the one he bought for her, a fact she can’t even try to deny the longer she looks at it. The clench on her champagne glass tightens, and Marinette quickly places it down on the table behind them, worried she’ll break it should she hold on any longer.

“Wish I was, but it’s on Fu’s orders.” Adrien stretches out his hands and smiles, a wistful look in his eyes as he gazes his Lady, the only person who matched him. He saw her gaze shift from one of shock, to anger, to fear, and finally nothing.

“I need a drink,” she lets out, turning around and bent on finding another waiter. Reaching one, she doesn’t try to hide her need for another drink, grabbing it and making to chug it right there and then.

“Ladybug, cool it with the drinks before you start tripping over your own feet,” she hears Alya say from her earpiece, a quick interjection that lets her know she’s still being listened to, and most likely watched from whatever cameras they placed in the room. Putting the drink away from her lips, she sighs, turning around to pretend to look at the décor as she begins to speak into the mic hidden on her dress.

“Rena, can’t I just leave and leave Chat here to deal with everything?” she almost hisses out.

“No can do,” Alya responds. “You’re under strict orders from Fu to stay there all night, like it or not.”

“How is it that everyone knew about this but me?”

“Hey, I just got the email with all the info on it. This is brand new to me too, Ladybug. And, it’s crucial you listen to your orders, before you get Fu mad.”

“Forget Fu, let’s worry about my feelings first. How is it that I got assigned to work with my ex, and no one ran it through with me?”

“I thought you said you were fine with seeing him, Ladybug.”

“I was fine! Up until I just got my _goddamn engagement ring_ shoved in my face and the entirety of our relationship flashed through my eyes.”

“Listen, I get it. This isn’t the best option, nor is it the most preferred one with your history with Chat. But you need to do this. If not for the mission than for the sake of your job, at least.”

“The way this’ll end, I might as well turn in my resignation letter and call it a day. Would save me a hell of a headache,” Marinette grumbles. She turns her head, hoping to shrink into the wall and disappear so Adrien can’t find her.

“You’re gonna wind up with a headache anyways with the amount of champagne coursing through your bloodstream. Just try to keep your head straight, just for tonight. You can’t try to avoid him forever.”

“I can try to.”

“You do a damn good job too, with all those international missions. But honestly, Ladybug, _really_? This is your first time back in Paris in over a year, and you’re just going to bail on a mission because of _Adrien_?”

“You know it’s not like that.”

“Don’t try to kid me like that. I’m your best friend, and I know better than anyone that the longer you drag this out, the more it’s gonna suck ass to deal with. Just go in, do the mission, and hope you two never see each other again,” Alya says, voice firm.

Marinette sighs. Alya’s right, and it makes Marinette so frustrated she grinds her teeth together, unable to say anything back. Like it or not, there’s no denying that she’s been running, darting to exotic corners of the world just to make sure she didn’t see him, barely staying in Paris long enough to unpack before she ran off again to distract herself with bad guys and guns and saving the day. Marinette can’t even recall the last time she saw her mom or dad other than through a phone screen, much less stop by and catch up. She had spent so long trying to outrun Adrien she hadn’t realized her luck had run out, with no choice left but to face him head on.

She puts her fingers on the bridge of her nose, squeezing it until she’s focused enough to continue.  Looking at the drink in her hand, she contemplates going for another drink, but decides to toss it in a nearby plant.

“Fine, okay. _Fuck_ , I’ll get through this,” she says.

“That’s my girl.”

“Where is he, anyways? I don’t want him sneaking up on me again.”

“Right behind you,” is whispered into her ear, Marinette turning around quickly to find Adrien inches away from her face. She tries to step back but finds nothing but wall behind her, forcing her to stay put.

“You need to stop doing that,” she mutters, watching as he grins, a catlike smile worthy of his name. “Just how long were you watching me, anyways?”

“Since I saw you talking to a painting and dumping champagne into a plant. It worried me for a second, made me think you were about to ditch me.”

“It did cross my mind,” Marinette admits. “But I’m not going anywhere right now, am I?”

Adrien smiles, his eyes twinkling in the light. He leans in, close enough that she feels his breath on her skin and smells the cologne he wore.

“No, no you aren’t.”

Hand reaching out, he grabs her champagne glass before she can stop him, depositing it on a passing waiter’s tray. She opens her mouth to protest, but he beats her to the chase, finger raised to stop her.

“You need to focus, Bugaboo. We’re on a mission, remember?”

“Just because we’re on a mission doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun. And, stop calling me Bugaboo,” she says, frowning as he looks down on her. It was one thing to be stuck by his side, but it was a whole other affair when he controlled what went into her system. Just who did he think he was anyways? Her _boyfriend_? As if.

“Having fun is one thing,” Adrien comments. “Getting drunk so you can stand the night with me is another thing. You’re a lightweight too, don’t you remember?”

“Oh, so you remembered something. Glad to see your brain still works the same,” she says, attempting to brush past him and get lost in the crowd. His hand comes out and grabs her arm, stilling her in her tracks but gentle enough that she could continue on if she wanted to, which she didn’t.

“That’s not the only thing that works the same too,” Adrien says, turning her around to face him again. Digging in his pocket, he pulls out the ring from before, only now Marinette’s less unnerved at the sight of it and more anxious at whatever Adrien’s planning to do with it. His hand lowers from her arm to her hand, where he extends her ring finger towards him. Gazing at her, he places the ring on the tip of Marinette’s finger, waiting for her say so.

“Come on, Buga- _Ladybug_ ,” he says, correcting himself. “Let’s play the role. Just for tonight, and then it’ll be like we never saw each other.”

Marinette looks down at the ring. It’s beautiful, and every bit the ring she had dreamt of, a ring that, two years prior, she would have gladly worn on her hand and boasted around with happily. She gazes up at Adrien, the one and only spy who played chess instead of checkers and won her heart. The one guy who understood her and matched her in every skill she had previously thought of as untouchable. The one guy who ruined her chances of succeeding in Operation Papillion. And, the one and only guy who broke her heart.

There was a lot at stake here should she forgo the mission. But, there was plenty to risk as well, should she decide to say and work with him. In the end, it was Marinette’s call, and Marinette’s call only.

“Oh, alright,” she sighs out, knowing any longer thinking would throw her in a rut. “Might as well make good use of the ring before it collects dust again.”

With a smile, Adrien slips it on. A perfect fit, Marinette notices, as she raises her hand to glance at the ring, moving her hand slightly to catch the light. She had never tried on the ring before, and only glanced at it once before their breakup, too angry at the time to even think of putting it on. However, now that it was on her finger, she took time to look at the diamond decorating the ring, quite a bit of weight to her hand but still, nothing too hard to manage. Every bit as extra as the pieces of jewelry scattered around the room, Marinette guessed she would finally fit in among the crowd tonight.

“It was only made for one hand, and one hand only, you know,” Adrien mentions, catching the way she admired the ring. He knew she wouldn’t ignore such a beautiful piece of art, and certainly not when he mentioned it’s originality. Marinette didn’t turn her head towards him as he spoke, but a smile graced her lips the longer she gazed at her ring. Finally setting her hand down, she turned to Adrien.

“So, where to, Chat?” she asked. “We don’t have all night, you know.”

“Well, we are going to say hi to Chloé. And then, we’re going to sneak off to the security room, check to make sure there’s been no odd entries, and head back down to guard her all night.”

He throws an arm around her shoulders, guiding her quickly through the guests and on a pathway to the center of the room, where the spoiled socialite was posing for a group shot.

“Why are we saying hi first? Can’t we just head to the security room now?”

“We could do that and save us time. But, Chloé’s my friend, and by the looks of it, she wants me to introduce her to you.”

“But why?” Marinette asks, frowning as they came closer. Chloé caught their eye, and motioned for them to get closer, pushing those around her out of their way to provide space for the two.

“Well, my _darling_ ,” Adrien says, grabbing her left hand and flashing the ring in her face, “you’re my fiancée, are you not? Wouldn’t any close friend want to see what kind of person their friend was engaged to?”

Marinette sighs, an exhale of air that blows the stray hairs off her face. “Yes,” she says.

“Yes what…?”

“Yes, _honey_ ,” she said, already a bitter taste in her mouth at the pet name.

“That’s my Bugaboo,” he crooned out, much to Marinette’s displease. She fought hard to stop the slight twitch of her eye, but it went on without aid, a clear indicator that her timer with him was running out. It was _fun_ to know that while she was hating every second of being with Adrien, he found joy in their little game of roleplay. And by fun, she meant in the getting stabbed in the leg thousands of times by Satan himself way, of course.

“Chat,” she starts, trying her best to keep a smile on her face and voice low, “if you say that again, I’m going to rip your fucking head off.”

“No more code names,” he whispered, voice dropping as they reached Chloé. “From now on, just call me Adrien.”

“Okay,” Marinette agreed, fine with using his real name as a way to vent her real emotions. The typical confidence she held was amplified by the alcohol coursing through her, letting her truly say what she felt, which at the moment was anger. “ _Adrien_ , if you say that again, I’m going to rip your- “

“Chloé!” he exclaimed, stopping Marinette from finishing her sentence.

“Oh _Adrikins_!” Chloé exclaims, throwing her arms around him and pulling him off of Marinette, leaving her a bit off balance as she tried to remain upright in her heels. Chloé threw him into a big hug, one that he returned with equal pleasure. “I’ve missed you so much! How was Greece?”

Marinette quirks a brow. As far as she knew, Adrien hadn’t gone to Greece since a mission in Mykonos, one that left him with a scar underneath his ribs that trailed down to just underneath his bellybutton. At the memory of the scar, her cheeks flushed, reminding her of just how toned Adrien was underneath the layers of tailored, fitted clothing he had on...

Worried, Marinette wondered if she really _had_ drunk a bit too much, a bit too quickly for her liking.

“Oh, Greece was amazing! But it wasn’t half as fun had it been if you came with!” Adrien responds, smiling.

“Well, you know I had to stay in Paris. It was _so_ boring, all dumb interviews and stupid meetings for my birthday party. But, it’s so much better now that you’re here!”

“Obviously.” He grins, before turning his body to let Marinette into the conversation. Hooking his arm around her waist, he gently pulls her back to his side, something she was glad for once she took a step closer and felt the height of her heels finally getting to her.

“Chloé, I want you to meet Marinette. Marinette, this is Chloé,” he introduces. Marinette does a small smile and wave, not trusting her mind to come up with anything intelligent the more she realized the alcohol was working its magic, and slowly but surely leaving her effected.

“Oh! So, this is the infamous Marinette!” Chloé gushes out. “I haven’t heard much of you since you went on your totally awesome Europe backpacking trip last year or whatever, but from what Adrien’s said you seem so… different from our usual routine! In a good way, of course!”

 _Backpacking trip?_ she questioned internally, her mind a little too foggy to truly understand whatever lie Adrien provided for her. Marinette wanted to say it was to prevent them learning about his spy life, but a different part of her wondered if he lied for more personal reasons…

Tuning back in, she heard Adrien finishing up his sentence, some long explanation for why they hadn’t met before.

“-And then, once she returned, I proposed and took her to Greece to celebrate. Not much, but nice enough for the two of us.”

“That is _so_ cute, Adrikins. You two are like, totes pairs for life. But enough about that! Let me see that _ring_!” Grabbing Marinette’s hand without any ask for permission, Chloé looks over the ring with the gaze of a jewel collector, eyes widening at the sight of the diamond. The diamonds around her neck almost sparkle just as much if not more, twinkling with every bit of movement from her.

“It’s gorgeous!” she exclaims. “Gosh, if only I got something like that one day. Well, I probably could get one anyways, if I begged Daddy enough for it.”

“How great,” Alya mutters, her mic on mute but speakers turned up all the way to thoroughly enjoy the night Marinette was having. “Glad to know she’s rich, not like her party speaks for itself.”

“That’s so nice to hear,” Marinette says, sounding a bit more excited than preferred as she spoke. Moving her hand a bit, she showed off the ring even more, hoping to receive more praise her way.

“Adrien, you really outdid yourself with this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was custom made.”

“It was,” Marinette boasts, feeling a surge a confidence come over her, along with a warmth throughout her body. Turning to look at him, she throws him a smile. “One of a kind, right?”

Adrien always feels like he’s in the Twilight Zone the way she perked up, all smiles and leaning up on him. If he didn’t know any better, she was starting to get tipsy, which wasn’t all that out of the ordinary considering he remembered she was never much of a partier. Chloé didn’t seem to notice though and if she did, she didn’t care, which he was more than thankful for.

Realizing both were waiting for his response, Adrien nods. “Custom made,” he says, pointing to it and smiling. “Only the best for her.”

“We should get matching ones,” Marinette says suddenly, grinning and pulling her ring back to admire it again, this time for herself. “I get to keep this one, and you get to wear a matching one with me! They would look so pretty.”

“Oh, that’d be so cute!” Chloé smiles, looking at Adrien and back at his spunky, very cheery fiancée. She was nicer than Adrien had made her seem over the phone and through text the past few months, and seeing her delight at such a ring, Chloé assumed she must be way more poor than Adrien has hinted at.

Although, it wasn’t that hard to notice, with the ring being the only decoration on her. Gazing at it again, she frowned the more she thought Marinette’s proposal through.

“I’m not sure Adrikins would be fine with me getting a matching engagement ring, though. I mean, not that _I_ mind since it’s _so_ gorgeous, but it is _your_ special ring for your special day, don’t you think? I’d be much happier with a bigger, more prettier ring.”

“Oh, Adrien won’t mind,” Marinette says, waving her off. Turning her head, she smiles widely at Adrien. “You won’t mind, right _Adri_?”

He blinks at the use of the old pet name, a flash back to when things seemed a lot simpler, and the ring on her hand was tucked securely in his dresser in their apartment, not yet quite ready to be pulled out. Adrien was surprised that she still remembered it and wondered if she was so drunk on bubbly, she wouldn’t recall saying most of this stuff in the morning.

He also begun to wonder, should he pull out some good old spy persuasion, would she reveal anything without too much work.

“Aw, that nickname is so cute!” Chloé comments. “You two are so adorable! I can’t wait to be one of the bridesmaids at your wedding.”

“Well, we’ll have to go and run by it with Marinette. Although, it’s safe to say you’re in the running,” Adrien says, letting out a faux chuckle. He helps Marinette straighten her spine up a bit more, trying to keep her as poised as best as he could without giving off warning she wasn’t up to par with her usual self.

Chloé grins, before turning her gaze across the room. At the sight of boxes and bags stacked on one another and being brought into the room by several men, she lets out an excited shriek. “More presents!” she exclaims, before rushing down to meet the bags and boxes halfway, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone.

“She was nice!” Marinette says, too loud for the short distance from her mouth and Adrien’s ear. Wincing, he looks down at her. Cheeks flushed, eyes wide, and a smile gracing her already beautiful face, Adrien knew without a doubt that her one too many glasses of champagne from earlier were doing their job, intoxicating Marinette with ease and leaving the usually coherent version of her to rest.

“I know she was nice, she’s my friend,” he says. Shouldering Marinette, he half guided, half held her across the room, eyes trained on the exit that a previous look at the map informed him led to the office down the hall. She looked around as they walked, eyes widened.

“Where are we going now?”

“It’s stage two now,” Adrien almost coos at her, hoping she’ll lower her voice long enough to draw attention away from the two. “We’re going to go to the security office and try to find some bad guys, remember?”

“I remember,” she assured him, sounding all too much like a person who didn’t remember at all and was trying to convince their self.

Pushing past the exit to the long hallway, Adrien spotted a dozen or so scattered guests, many drunk or waiting in line for the bathroom, or both. He smiled as he walked past them all, mind recalling the turn down the hallway and the fourth door on the right the place he needed to get to.

“I’m tired,” Marinette murmured, hand reaching up to cling onto his suit collar. While stable enough to support some of her weight, she clearly wasn’t able to do much other than stand up and half walk, and even that was below average at best.

Adrien sighed. While he had been excited at being with Marinette all night once he heard they were partners, this wasn’t what he had expected. No, what he had been hoping for was that his usual charm would revive the romance and call her back into his arms. Instead, the way she wound up in his arms was because Marinette became drunk, with her heels stepping on his shoes with every other step and nonsense leaving her mouth every other minute.

Still, it was better than nothing after two years without her touch. Even being in her presence soothed his mind and brightened his mood, with the two years without her in his life taking a toll. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, it was evident in the circles under his eyes, result of sleepless nights recalling how she used to lay in his bed alongside her. His stagger in his step, typically straight posture taken over by a hunch and an almost zombie like step. How he never perked up until he went on a mission, up until he turned his neck to say something witty her way and realized his Ladybug, his _Marinette_ was gone.

And so, Adrien decided he might as well put up with it, and that even the best of spies deserved a chance to get blasted, never mind it was during a mission and she _was_ the best. He owed her that at least, knowing in his heart that she wouldn’t have drank so much unless she _wanted_ to forget tonight, mission be damned, and that Adrien himself must’ve been the reason why.

Still, a small part of him wished she’d remember, the way he surely would.

Reaching the fourth doorway, Adrien finally let go of his grip of Marinette, leaving her with the wall as her support. He fiddles with the lock, giving himself a minute to unlock it before someone would notice him crouched before a door and investigate.

When he hears that satisfying click ring out, he swings the door open and enters quickly. A hand reaches behind him to grab Marinette, and he pulls her in with him, shutting the door firmly behind her. She giggles, excited at the way he grabbed her closer to him.

As he suspected earlier, it was empty. A handful of parties he had attended here over the years, both before his spy career and during it let him learn the security office was rarely occupied, a slip up on their part and a benefit for Adrien. He skimmed over the equipment in front of him, various monitors set up displaying the party and all its occupants. A coffee cup was the only clue there was someone in there previously, cold to the touch and empty once he picked it up.

“Let me have a sip,” Marinette says, hand reached out to try and grab the cup from him.

“Coffee is the last thing I’m letting you have,” Adrien responds, putting the cup out of her reach. Placing it in the trash, he settles Marinette down into a chair, hoping she’ll stay still long enough to dig through the footage.

Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive, plugging it into the computer should he need to download all the footage and delete what they had. He grabbed the mouse, not caring much for any fingerprints left. He had broken into the security office plenty of times before, sometimes mission related and sometimes when he wanted to fool around with a girl, all without getting caught. And, with the vast amount of different employees coming in and using the same technology over who knew how many months or years, Adrien doubted his fingerprints would be picked up.

Clicking the rewind button, he sped it up and darted his eyes over the various camera angles, each showing different sections of the building. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could see, unless employees goofing off at different points of the night was something suspicious. He decided to fast forward after a moment, wondering if he missed something or perhaps, they had a bad tip.

 _Not that it was a bad thing no one was planning on kidnapping Chloé_ , Adrien reasoned with himself. _But it’d be nice if something_ hinted _that that was going to occur._

Marinette sighed, bored as she watched him click around like the world’s biggest nerd. Adrien was much more boring than she remembered him as in her brain, where she had remembered him as fun. _Really_ fun, now that she let the memories dart through her head, of guns and speeding in cars and kissing on top of rooftops. Almost _too_ much, as her cheeks flushed and her mind ran somewhere else, to recall how his skin felt, and just how _strong_ and _powerful_ he was.

Blinking at him, Marinette wondered if he remembered any of the fun times they had, and why they stopped it.

“Adri,” she says, leaning forward in her chair and getting his attention. She smiles as he turns towards her, happy to see his face. She’s always happy to see him, Marinette realizes, the nice and comforting warmth in her body even more hot the more she looks at him.

“Yes, Marinette?” he asks. She’s been awfully quiet as he’s been digging around, and he wondered what thoughts had been creeping around while she sat there.  

“I got a question.”

“And it is?”

“Why don’t we have fun anymore?” she asks, waiting for a response.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, brow arched and confused. She giggles, the sound making Adrien smile even as he waited for her to answer the question.

“You know… _fun_. When we’d be together, and we would hug and kiss and… you know!” she says, unable to continue without laughing. She didn’t know if it was because he was too cute to describe something like that too or because the warmth in her body tickled her as she spoke, but whatever was the cause stopped her from going too much into details.

Adrien sat up straight, feeling his face burn and memories of the _fun_ she had been talking about appearing in his mind. Unable to form words, he watched as Marinette giggled, hands over her mouth and a sly look in her eyes as she caught his eye.

“So, you do know!” she exclaims, seeing the red on his face. Sitting up straighter, she smiles at him, hoping to get to the bottom of her question. “Why did we stop, Adri?”

“Well, it wasn’t like we just decided to out of nowhere. It was…” he trails off, unsure if he could discuss this, and discuss it with a drunk Marinette, nonetheless.

“Was what?”

“Because we… we broke up, remember?”

“Oh.” Marinette grows silent, her brain trying to form the correct words in response to her Adrien. She comes up short, her mind still trying to find something to say. She opens her mouth, then shuts it as she comes at a blank.

 _We broke up?_ she thinks to herself, face falling flat. It must’ve been something really bad for them to break up, or else they’d still be having fun together, and lots of it. Trying to recall what must have happened, she leans in her seat, thinking.

Adrien sighed, turning back to the computer and trying to find anything that would alert him to something bad occurring. He found it much better to stare at a screen then try and explain to his drunk ex the reason for their breakup knowing she’d get emotional over it, even if the more he looked over the footage he was left grasping for straws.

Nothing. Not a single clue. No person sneaking in, no one dressing up in a different outfit, or emerging from a door with something sinister painted on their face. He rewound and fast forwarded so many times he worried he would corrupt the media, and quickly started transferring it should he find something later.

Leaning back in the chair, he rubbed his hands on his face, frustrated. Even now, while he looked at the real-time footage and saw Chloé opening up gifts, he saw not one clue of her in trouble. His eyes darted away from that screen, looking at the other parts of the building. Maybe some more employees were goofing off in the kitchen or something, and he could catch a glimpse.

Suddenly, he spotted something in real time. Someone upstairs, far away from the party and Chloé and doing something, although he didn’t quite yet know. They were rummaging in a desk, and before his eyes pocketed something. Eyes widening, he watched as they left, shifting the cameras around to catch them rushing out of the room and headed for the west wing staircase, where the parking garage entrance was underneath.

Adrien stood up, ejecting his flash drive and bent on tracking down the person before they made a run for it with whatever they had. He made for the door, but turned around, remembering he wasn’t the only person in the room.

Marinette was staring at him, silent and tears forming in her eyes. She felt her bottom lip poke out, but didn’t have any time to speak before Adrien wrapped an arm around her waist and led her out the room, not wanting to leave his Lady alone, and especially not when she was like this. A part of him wanted to soothe her and ask what made her get so emotional, but a better part of him knew something else was important now, and should he let the person get away with whatever he had, he’d never hear the end of it from sober Marinette.

He led her as fast and as carefully as he could through the hallways, before deciding halfway it’d be easier to just pick her up and carry her in his arms. She didn’t protest as he did so either, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck and placing her head on his chest. He darted through hallways and turned corners, the imaginary map in his brain painting out the exact twists and turns he needed to take if he wanted to beat the person and catch him in the act.

“You’re strong,” Marinette says, looking up to gaze at him. Her lip pouted again, and she dug her head back onto his chest as she felt her mind go sad again. Whatever the reason for why she suddenly felt sad, she knew it was because of him and didn’t want to think anymore, too sad from trying to recall things about their breakup and getting nothing but a sharp pain in her heart.

No, if there was anything she wanted right then and there, it was just to feel close with him. There, her mind knew that even if she felt sad now, she’d feel better the longer she was by his side.

Adrien barely registered her comment, instead thinking through if it’d be smart to pull out his gun and shoot there and then while he could, or if he could run after and pin the person to the ground. He did, after all, need the person alive if he wanted to get answers about what they were going to do.

Stopping as he approached the last thing between him and his target, Adrien placed Marinette down, steadying her as she held onto the wall. He looked down at the stairs, a quicker option than the elevator next to them and much easier to run down. Marinette could barely stand, much less go down a flight of stairs in heels, and it wasn’t too hard for him to decide this was where he’d have to leave his partner for now.

“Okay, Mari, I’m going to go down the stairs and get that guy. I’ll be right back, okay?” he asks, barely waiting for her to comprehend or respond back before he begun to step down.

“Don’t go,” she says, voice loud and trembly enough it actually does stop him. Looking down at the stairs, Adrien weighs his options, before deciding the mission was more important than his drunk Lady’s wishes, no matter how much he wanted to carry them through.

“I have to,” he tells her, already moving his legs down onto the next steps.

“ _No_ … I don’t want you to leave, Adri.”

“There’s no time. I need to get him now, or else he’ll get away.”

Without waiting for her to say anything else, Adrien darts down, his footsteps the only sound in the air. He rushes, hoping he’ll get the bad guy and save the day, and hopes he won’t ruin the mission. Hurting drunk Marinette was one thing he’d have to do in order to accomplish it, but it’d be way less of an issue than when he hurt sober _her_ , two years before, with a failed mission and a breakup thrown in his face.

He wasn’t going to mess up, not again. And certainly, not with his Lady around.

He swung open the door at the end of the stairs, spotting a door opposite of him swing open. A person came out, jacket effectively large enough to cover their frame. But, as soon at they caught sight of Adrien through their dark sunglasses, they bolted, already running with determination across the parking garage. He didn’t hesitate, running after them and calling out for them to stop. Turning, he jumped over a car’s hood, hoping to make up for the head start by shortening the distance.

The person moves with ease, without so much as a pant as they run. Adrien feels his sides begin to ache and knowing he might fail at this game of cat and mouse, reaches for his gun, hoping he might at least leave something for the person to remember him by.

Suddenly, a car comes in front of him, nearly running Adrien over. He backs up, fear coursing through his spine. The car blocks his view of the person in front of him, and any attempts made to come closer result in the car getting dangerously revved up. Aiming his gun at the car, he fires twice, leaving holes in the glass window and door closest to him.

“Get out!” he shouts, finally getting closer to the car. He aims again, but before he can fire they swing the door open, slamming him to the ground and leaving his head rocking with pain.

 _Fuck_ , he think, listening to the car tires squeal as he struggles to get up. He wishes, wistfully, that Marinette hadn’t been so drunk. Perhaps, if she was here and thinking straight, the two of them could take them on.

He waits for the car to back up and run him over, but instead feels the air whoosh over his body as the car speeds past him, bent on a getaway. They’re gone by the time he finally manages to get up, feeling blood on his face and a headache already on the verge of starting.

“Fucking _hell_ ,” he says, hand on his earpiece to alert Nino of his big mess-up.

Suddenly, the elevator door dings open. Adrien turns, tucking his gun away, and spots his disheveled partner across the parking garage, looking proud of herself for having gotten the elevator to work.

“How did you get here?” he asks, stopping his search to gaze at Marinette. She managed to stumble out the elevator before it closed, walking towards him without a second thought. He sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and opening his arm to let her in, holding her close and realizing she took off her heels, the high pumps held in her hands by the straps.

“I clicked buttons,” she slurs out. Looking around, she frowns at the surroundings. “Where’s the bad guy?”

“He’s… He’s gone.” Cursing internally, he fights the urge to scream.

“Oh _no_ ,” Marinette says. She raises a hand upwards to pat his cheek, wanting to soothe him. “Don’t worry, _chaton_. It’s okay.”

Adrien sighs, accepting her hug and her drunken comforts. Even so, he knows that as nice and fragile as she is tonight, the rage she’ll contain tomorrow morning will ravage the walls of the agency. She’ll be livid, swearing up and down and swearing at _him_ most of all. He can only wonder what’ll emerge of Marinette, especially knowing if tonight was an indicator, that she’d wake up with a killer hangover tomorrow.

But still, he can’t help but look down and feel his heart thump wildly at the disheveled woman before him, the ring still on her finger a reminder of how much he cares, even if she saw it more of a prop.

“Let’s get you home,” he tells her.

“Okay!” she responds, all too happy. He smiles back, wanting to enjoy the time he got to have where she wasn’t entirely hating his guts. It was like Cinderella, except once the clock struck midnight he wouldn’t have his happily ever after, but a hatred towards him stronger than most bridges.

Hand over his earpiece, Adrien speaks into it, more than done with the night and what little he had accomplished.

“Nino, tell Fu the mission was a bust. And, ask Alya for Marinette’s address so I can take her home.”

“No biggie, bro. But you _gotta_ remember the code names. It’s in the rule book!”

“I’m sure I’ll get plenty rule enforcing tomorrow, when Fu kills Marinette and I for fucking up our mission.”

“Dude, _code names_.”

 


	2. love and hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the sight of his name, Marinette felt a flash of a memory course through her, of his face. His lips, brushing a hello onto her hand and looking up at her. A smile, and a look in her eyes that caused her cheeks to redden even at the memory. Looking down at the ring some more, she wondered just what transpired last night for her to wind up with it, after nearly two years trying to get it forced out of her mind.
> 
> And better yet, why did her cheeks flush at the memory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't ever say i didn't work hard for y'all lmao i grinded to get this out quick enough for y'all to enjoy

The next morning, Marinette found herself waking up with a raging headache and her alarm blaring. The last night had been a blur to her, nothing coming back even as she tried desperately to remember, the only recollection she had been out the pain in her feet from her heels.

Vaguely, she recalled being on a mission, but doubted she would be able to jog her memory back unless she listened to whatever her earpiece had picked up last night. The thing in her mind had been standing around with rich folk, champagne in her hand and something Alya had said to her, something she couldn’t remember for the life of her.

Even more puzzling had been the fact that she was tucked into her bed snug and secure when she woke, glass of water sitting on the nightstand and her phone charging next to it. Grabbing the water, she took a heavy gulp, glad it soothed her dry mouth. And then, once she went for her phone, she unlocked it and saw messages from Alya. Some, the typical good morning texts and reminders on how to deal with her hangover. A few nonchalant remarks as to how she really bombed the mission, but really, who was blaming her? And, much to her dismay, a text that informed her Fu wanted her in the conference room the moment she stepped into the agency.

Sighing, Marinette wanted to throw herself back into her blankets and go back to sleep, putting the whole day on mute. Fu was the last face she wanted to see, especially when she knew how disappointed he’d be in her so early in the morning.

Touching her face and expecting oily residue from the makeup she probably left on, Marinette felt that it had been scrubbed off, leaving her more puzzled. When she drank, Marinette rarely washed off the makeup after a night out, leaving for pimples to sprout up and her skincare routine to be thrown out the window the next day.

She carefully got out of bed, feeling her feet scream in pain with every step she took to the bathroom. Slipping on her bathrobe and slippers, she stepped in and examined her face in the mirror, trying to find any hints to what happened last night. No marks, scratches or bruises on her. The typical dull and almost dead look in her face, but she knocked that up to the ill effects of drinking on her rather than anything that happened last night. If anything, it looked almost like she stayed in, leaving her to doubt just how far she got into her mission riding solo. A glance at the floor showed the dress and heels she most likely wore last night, but begged the question as to how she got home, got ready for bed, threw on her favorite oversized shirt, and fell asleep, all while pouring herself a cup of water and plugging her phone in drunk.

It was clear someone had helped her, the facts piling up too much for her to try and find an alternative answer. Not Alya, that was for sure, or she’d be snuggled in bed next to her and ready to pamper her best friend. Not a lover, as she rarely picked up someone on a mission and didn’t find any love marks on her body in the mirror.       

_But who?_

Knowing the answer would lay in her earpiece recordings that were stored in Alya’s desk, she groaned, knowing she’d have to get ready for work and sit through the conference with Fu if she even wanted to get her hands remotely close to the audio recordings.

She left her bedroom and stepped into the living room, where Tikki, her dog, sprang up and pawed at her feet, wanting to be picked up. Marinette smiled before leaning down and giving her ample love. Hangover or not, she’d have to take care of Tikki, and getting her fed before taking her out was on the top of her list.

However, she’d have to get something in her system first if she wanted to get through the day. Walking to the kitchen, she smelled the all too comforting smell of coffee already coming from her brewer, which had a pot made and ready to be poured into a cup.

She frowned. Pulling out a cup, she carefully poured it in, glancing around for signs of intrusion. Someone definitely had been in, but it couldn’t have been someone dangerous. Tikki hadn’t barked while she slept, and a quick look into her bowl showed the remnants of dog food, letting her know someone had fed her, and thus knew where Marinette stored the dog food. With the leash on the counter, there was a hint of her getting walked as well.

And, next to the leash was something shiny, placed on top of a small piece of paper. She set down her cup and moved closer, hand reaching to cup the object and her other hand grabbing the paper. Opening her hand, she saw a ring, one that made her do an intake of breath.

There was no doubt about it that it was _her_ ring, the one she had ran away from years prior. Holding the paper out before her, she focused her eyes on what it said.

_Next time don’t drink as much._

_-xx, Chat._

At the sight of _his_ name, Marinette felt a flash of a memory course through her, of his face. His lips, brushing a hello onto her hand and looking up at her. A smile, and a look in her eyes that caused her cheeks to redden even at the memory. Looking down at the ring some more, she wondered just what transpired last night for her to wind up with it, after nearly two years trying to get it forced out of her mind.

And better yet, why did her cheeks flush at the memory?

\--

Adrien was already seated in his chair as she entered the conference room, a coffee cup in his head and feet perched up on the chair next to him. Marinette didn’t say a word as she crossed to the table, taking the seat across from him and setting down her bag. She tried not to look at him as they waited, really, she tried not to, but a quick look his way let her know his eyes were trained elsewhere, reading whatever had been written on the coffee cup.

Her cheeks burned as she stared at him, and she quickly turned away, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. After realizing he had been in her apartment and she must’ve been in contact with him last night, Marinette had tried hard to erase the memory of him on her, staying in the shower long until she couldn’t do it any longer and rushing to work. Waking up on time and having half of her daily routine already done for her did little to escape her time spent getting ready and the sluggish nature she felt from her hangover, and Marinette found herself rushing just to enter the building and clock in.

In fact, she had rushed so hard at reaching the conference room not too late that she could only bid Alya a quick hello, unable to stop by her desk and listen to the recordings. Without them, she still had no idea of what emerged last night, and no clue as to how the only guy she’s avoided the past two years appeared across from her, tied into her antics from last night’s mission.

She looked down, unwilling to talk to him and ask him what happened, even if he was her only bit of clarity. Her hands lay in her lap, and she fiddled with her fingers, playing a one-person thumb war to entertain herself. Decorating them had been the ring, placed on the correct finger and shining bright at her. Marinette frowned at the sight of it, wondering why she had even decided to wear it, or why she hadn’t chucked it in her dresser, far away from her sight until she stumbled upon it again months later and repeated the ordeal.

Still, she couldn’t help but admire it. _A ring this pretty deserved to be wore_ , she argued, _even if the memory surrounding it was tainted._

Sitting in her chair, she allowed herself one more look at Adrien. Marinette would never admit it out loud, but she had to acknowledge that even after so long without seeing his face, Marinette still couldn’t get over just how good he looked. Chiseled jaw, piercing green eyes, and dare she say she spotted stubble forming on his chin? It was all too interesting to her to look at him, and although she seethed at the memory of their breakup, some nostalgic part of her felt remorseful at how things had ended.

And then, her eyes caught his lips. She wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t miss the feeling of them on her skin, and the memory from last night appeared again. His lips, just barely brushing her hand. Her cheeks heated up, and trying to find something else to focus on, she looked at the table and the space between them. Adrien had set the coffee cup down, and whatever was written on it in black marker was on full display for her to read, written neatly by the barista.

Marinette squinted, trying to read it with an intense curiosity. Perhaps it was his drink order written down, one she still remembered after all that time.

_Hey cutie, call me! 0X XX XX XX XX_

And apparently, his order it was not. Her eyes flashed up at him and she caught him typing into his phone, her mind jumping ahead way too much for her liking. He clearly must’ve been texting that barista, and the nostalgia she felt quickly turned to jealousy, causing her to lean back in her chair and huff loudly. He glanced her way, but Marinette turned her head so that she wouldn’t be tempted to catch his gaze.

 _That scoundrel!_ she thought to herself. _And to think, he kissed my hand last night!_

Adrien frowned as he looked at Marinette, eyes moving from the game he was playing and observing her straight posture, arms crossed and looking away from him. He had been right after all when he assumed she’d be angry in the morning, but not in the way he thought. She was quiet, unwilling to talk to him, and Adrien could only assume two things:

One: that she was trying to keep her anger subdued, or

Two: that she was waiting for the right moment to blow up.

Unable to figure out which, he went back to his game, fingers flying on the screen and eyes flickering up every few minutes to admire how well she looked even while mad (and a smirk on his face as he saw an all too familiar glint on her hand).

Marinette watches him without remorse, gazing at Adrien tap away at his screen fast and quick. Without warning, the sentence escapes her lips, blurted out and ending the silence in the room.

“You seem excited.”

“Do I?” he asks, looking up from his phone for only a second, before turning his head back down and continuing to tap. At what, she could only guess and for a fleeting second, Marinette wished he wore his glasses instead of contacts, if only so she could see what was on the screen in front of him.

“Is she cute?” she asks next, trying to sound civil.

“Who?” he asks, confused.

“The barista who wrote her number down on your drink. My eyes work you know, and I can see that little message she wrote on your cup.”

Adrien looked at his cup, spinning it around so he too read what was on it. He smiled, unable to believe that after a handful of years on tense missions and tons of experience on her, she still had the tendency to overthink even the tiniest of things.

“Of course, you do,” he finally comments.

“So, was she cute?”

“He was _adorable_ ,” Adrien says, chuckling. “Unfortunately, just not my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” Marinette asks, trying not to look phased at jumping the gun so suddenly and assuming only girls would be bewitched by Adrien’s good looks. He _was_ handsome, and anyone with eyes could pick that up, a fact she couldn’t deny.

“Dark hair. Blue eyes. I don’t think I need to go into details,” he says, picking up the cup and taking a sip. He looks at her, wondering what’d she say in response.

“Oh,” was all she could let out, and Marinette left it at that, leaving the two to fall back into silence. Her cheeks burned and Marinette felt the pit of her stomach start up a fire with every glance, anger and _something else_ brewing at his well-placed flirt.

 _He was a scoundrel all right_ , she thought, _and a flirt without fail._

Fu entered a moment later, head director of the Miraculous Spy Agency and most likely agent in the whole building, perhaps the whole agency. He stood at the head of the table, laptop set in front of him and eyes looking at his two best agents, quiet and still.

For a moment, no one says anything. And then, Adrien breaks the silence.

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say last night was a bust. No pointing fingers, but everything didn’t go according to plan.”

Marinette narrows her eyes, unwilling to hold back her tongue at such a blunt statement.

“You’re going to be the judge of that?” she questions.

“Yes, I think I am. You want to say anything, Bugaboo?” Adrien asks, watching as she stared him back down. He wondered just how much of last night she remembered, and if she even knew enough to keep up a conversation, much less defend herself.

“I’m not in the mood for catty arguments, Chat,” she started, sounding all too like someone who _did_ want to start an argument, if not for the right reasons. “I’m not all too clear on what happened last night, but I’m sure if you were involved something bad was _bound_ to happen. And I’m not bragging or anything, but had I been the only agent there, the mission would’ve been a slice of cake.”

“Oh really?” Adrien asks, finding it all too amusing that Marinette, even while not knowing what occurred last night wanted to pin it all on him and ignore her actions. He assumed it was scorned lover’s rage painting her emotions, and she was trying to use anything as fuel for her anger.

Nevertheless, he found it hard not to feed into it, feeling his own pain rise up and cover his emotions.

“Yep.”

“Well, if you hadn’t been so drunk last night, you could’ve helped me out a little.”

 “So, I was a _little_ drunk,” she admitted, although she knew a little was far from the truth. “That doesn’t excuse the fact you must’ve messed up the mission.”

Adrien scoffed, rolling his eyes. How stubborn could she be? He always knew she’d been a bit unwilling to accept anything but her point of view, but now on the other side, hearing Marinette reluctant to accept the fact she was as guilty as he was, he felt an overwhelming need to defend himself.

“I’ll have you know; I didn’t mess up. I didn’t mess up last night, and I _definitely_ didn’t mess up with Operation Papillion. I don’t mess up, period,” he says, leaning forward and pointing a finger out.

At the mention of Operation Papillion, Marinette eyes narrowed. She leaned in as well, arms still crossed.

“Oh, so we’re going with _that_ route. You didn’t mess up? You didn’t do anything wrong? I’ll have you know, if you didn’t mess up that night, we probably would’ve stayed together.”

“No,” Adrien argued, “if you had only _listened_ and took the time to hear me out that night, then we would’ve stayed together.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t show up with a proposal in the air before even letting me understand why you did what you did, we would’ve- “

“Enough!” Fu slaps his hand down on the table, causing the two agents to jump like reprimanded pets and end their petty argument.

“I know, I know,” Fu says, raising a hand out towards both of them. “Neither of you want to be here, and I don’t want to hear you two rehash this whole _he said, she said_ thing. But, you two messed up on the mission last night, and we’re staying here until I say so.”

Marinette opens her mouth, ready to say something, but Fu throws her a glance, keeping her silenced.

“You _both_ messed up last night,” he repeats. “Now, I’m not going to get into it, but it’s clear to me there’s some issues here, issues that would’ve been avoided had you two not gone around and broke _two of my most important rules_.”

“I know, I know,” Marinette says, not in the mood to hear him scold them so early in the morning. “There’s no need to keep dishing it out, Fu. We fucked up, and I’ll be the first to admit I should listen to the rules a bit more. I… I should’ve stopped myself before we got too close back then.”

“You know, I think I agree with her on this one,” Adrien quips, getting in one last dig. “All her fault.”

“You know what, Adrien? I- “

“Quiet, please, before I get a headache.” Fu sighs, before opening up his laptop. “Let’s just get on with this. And seeing as _someone_ here got inebriated last night, I think it’s safe to assume we need to revisit some footage,” he added.

Pointing to the screen behind him, footage from the beginning of the night showed. Fast forwarding, Fu showed the two as the night occurred, up until they left the room. Marinette watched intensely, her cheeks beginning to burn in shame as she caught herself not only drinking like she was at a bar, but also clinging onto Adrien’s side as the night progressed. It was as if she was viewing a different person dressed like her, an alternate her where she and Adrien had stayed together. Looking closer, she also realized he had been waning her off the alcohol, moving her away from trays and keeping her hands empty.

Her eyes went to him for a moment. Whether it had been for the mission or not, he did attempt to keep her away from more glasses, something she had to owe to him. Of course, it wasn’t like Adrien was a monster who’d let her make a fool out of herself in front of snobby high elites. No, he was so much more kind than everyone in that room put together.

Fu switched the footage as they exited the room, pulling up a clip of them making their way to the security office. He opened up a different window as well, a different part of the hotel picking up footage of another room. While they were breaking into the security office, someone upstairs had been doing the same, crouched in front of a door and fumbling with the lock.

“Last night, while the mayor’s daughter was safe and sound, it was clear we got the wrong idea. We were right in thinking someone was going to steal something that night, but assumed too quickly it was the fancy, expensive necklace around her neck. We didn’t think to realize it could’ve been something her dad had in the very hotel he lives in.”

The footage showed someone rummaging in a desk, before pocketing something quickly and leaving the room. Zooming into the picture, Fu pointed out the painting behind the desk, of the mayor and his family.

“Of course,” Adrien mutters, realizing why the thief had skipped out on the extravagant evening going on in favor of the quiet upstairs. “Chloé’s dad has access to some of the most important files and information in the city, and with everyone focused on her party, it must’ve been easy to slip through and steal whatever they wanted.”

“Right you are,” Fu comments. “Had we reviewed our clues more before assigning the mission, we might’ve caught on to the whole thing.”

Marinette quirked a brow as she focused in more in the video, which was edited to show how the night progressed and the mission fell apart. She watched as Adrien carried her through the hallways in pursuit of the person, with the same old quickness and agility that she couldn’t forget. Another different angle, and he practically abandoned her at the top of some stairs to continue on with the chase (but not like she blamed him). And then, she saw him run through the parking garage, all until he got hit in the head with the car door and the person made off.

She frowned, eyes flickering to gaze at his head. Even though he tried to cover it up with his hair, she could see a bruise on the side of his face, filling her in on just how badly he’d been hurt. A hit that bad, and she wondered just how he fell asleep last night, before realizing he probably _hadn’t_ , the memory of waking up and finding so much stuff done for her ringing through her brain.

When Marinette looked back at the video, she saw herself, somehow managing to make it down to the garage and clinging onto him as he spoke into his earpiece. A moment later, and the video went to black, leaving her to picture what occurred after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Quite a night, huh?” Fu asks. “Almost good enough to be in the Cannes festival, although the ending could use a little work.”

“I’ve been on worse missions,” Marinette says, recalling a few ones that could hold a candle to those events. Adrien nods his head in agreement, a few worse ones briefly running through his mind.

“I don’t think I need to scold you like a couple of newbies, so I’m just going to brush over this and move onto the real reason I brought you two here.”

Sitting up in her seat, Marinette keeps her eyes trained on Fu. Adrien does the same, but he can’t help but let his eyes move in Marinette’s direction every now and then, admiring the way she focused in.

“We believe they took intel relating to another case. The mayor himself had kept a flash drive containing many of the documents, mainly because it was of high security at the time. We also kept it with him as a backup, should our agency get raided or hacked, although very unlikely.”

“What case was it?” Adrien racked his brain, trying to think about all the cases he studied and done in his time at the agency. Something that high-profile must’ve been important, and important enough to other parties that information was stolen.

“It’s a mission I think everyone in the agency has touched on before. I’m sure you two know it better than anyone else. Now, the reason it failed can be blamed on both error on our part and to the agents assigned, but we aren’t going to get into that today. No, I’m sure you two argue enough about what went on.”

 _Don’t tell me…_ Marinette thinks. She feels the dread in her stomach arise at the thought of its name, along with the ever-present anger and regret at what had gone done.

Adrien stiffens in his chair, a certain mission flashing through his mind. _He couldn’t be mentioning…_

“Ladybug, Chat Noir, I think I don’t need to go around throwing hints. It’s Operation Papillion.”

Marinette and Adrien both let out a sigh before casting each other a look. What each person wanted to say, neither could quite tell.

“I know,” Fu starts, “A lot of things happened then. A lot of things we can’t fix or try to excuse even though I’m sure all of us want to. It was our biggest failure, a huge stain on our reputation. The biggest drug ring in Paris, and we botched it by a huge margin. We let the bad guy get away, and that’s something we can’t change.”

Marinette frowns, remembering the night it had all gone south. Shifting in his seat, Adrien felt shame run by him, unwilling to ignore what had been done.

“But we have a chance to fix things this time,” he interjected, stopping his two best agents from moping at their mistakes. “Breaking into the hotel, stealing that flash drive from the mayor’s desk, it can’t just be for nothing. They have to have taken it for a reason, and if I’m right, I believe it’s because they want to bring Akuma back.”

Marinette looked up, gazing at Fu. _Bring Akuma back?_

“How can they when their boss is gone?” she asks. “He’s been missing for two years now, and the production of Akuma stopped when he left. A quick look through our computer will tell you that the past three months alone have had nearly nonexistent production or selling of it on the market.”

Fu grins, pleased she had kept up with the information regarding Operation Papillion, even as time passed and the case went cold. “Nothing’s too farfetched. That, I’d thought you learnt by now, Ladybug. With the boss gone, it was only a matter of time before someone rose up out of the ranks and took control.”

“But why?”

“We have a feeling that they not only want to start up with the Akuma production, but that they want to branch out.”

“Branch out?” Adrien interjects. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but now couldn’t help himself. “Like, what? Market Akuma to the rest of France?”

“Think bigger.” Fu pulls up a map, showing highlighted areas of the globe on the screen behind me. “We think they’re going to try and make this international. Cuba, Brazil, Mexico. A few busy cities in Russia and scattered bits of Europe, then the United States. By then, someone there will probably learn to make Akuma all on their own, in a garage or basement with some friends, and market it all across the states. And after that, there’s no telling where it’ll go.”

Gazing at the map, Marinette’s mouth fell slightly open. Akuma had been trouble enough in Paris, but the _whole world_? Who knew the chaos the drug could cause, and even worse, how low and dirty people would go in order to get their hands on it?

Adrien shook his head, unwilling to believe what Fu said. He knew how hard it had been to try and get Akuma off the streets in Paris, and how even after Operation Papillion there had been one or two sellers still trying to get rid of their stashes. But the whole world, exposed to something unlike anything they had seen yet?

The two looked up at their director, each shaken up by the thoughts of such a dangerous drug let loose once more.

“Pretty crazy, right?”

“It’s… It’s almost too much,” Marinette says, eyes trained on the map.

“I know. That’s why both of you are going to work together and stop this before it even gets close to happening.”

Crossing his arms, Fu smiled as both Marinette and Adrien started in with their protests, voices rising to outdo the other as they talked.

“Fu, you _have_ to be joking!”

“You saw how she acted last night! I’ll have to babysit her the whole mission!”

“Fu, you know I trust you more than anyone else, but no. No. _Hell_ no!”

“I’m not going to make it! Being stuck at her side is a ticking time bomb, and you know it!”

“If I have to work with him, I’ll quit!”

With a raise of his arms, Fu stops their protests. Motioning for the two to calm down, he gives it a moment before continuing.

“I know, it’s going to be difficult,” he says. “There’s a lot unresolved stuff between you two, and I’m the last person to want to put you both in this position. But, you two are my best agents, and you already know enough about Operation Papillion from last time’s go. There’s no need to fill you guys in or wonder how good you’ll do. This time, I’m sure nothing will go wrong.”

“You’re sure? Well, I thought that same thing the first time around.” Marinette gets up, anger seeping through her and unwilling to hold her tongue. “There’s no way on earth that I am working with _him_ ,” she adds, throwing a pointed finger Adrien’s way, where he sat, eyes trained elsewhere.

“The way I see it, you already are,” Fu responds, unphased. “In fact, judging by the engagement ring on your finger, I already see you’ve read your file.”

She looked down, flushing as she remembered she had on the ring, shown off with her hand pointed his way. Pulling off the next second, hands shaking, she threw it harshly at Adrien. He caught it without hesitation, his catlike reflexes worth his namesake. Looking down at the ring, he grinned.

“You know, you gotta throw harder than that, Bugaboo,” he lets out.

“Stop calling me that! I am _not_ your Bugaboo.”

“No, but you are my partner on this case, and that’s close enough.” Looking away from Marinette, he flashed his gaze Fu’s way and gave him a slight nod, letting him know he accepted the mission.

“How are you so chill with this?” Marinette protested, watching Adrien relax back in his seat, grabbing his coffee cup and taking a swing. “Aren’t you the slightest bit irritated?”

“Oh, of course I am. If it was anyone else assigning us together, I’d probably leave before they got this far. But, Fu makes some points here, points I just can’t ignore because I’m hurt over a breakup or how I did last time. And, unlike you, I know when to ignore my personal feelings and actually do my job, Marinette.”

She falters, watching him take a cool sip of his drink. _He’s right._

“He’s right, you know,” Fu says. She closes her eyes, forcing herself to come to a conclusion now, before she regretted her decision later.

“Fine. Fine. Fine! _Fuck_!” she finally exclaims, flopping back into her seat. Waving a hand towards Fu, she motioned for him to continue, as if she’d take back her words any second and jump out the window.

“That’s more like it,” Fu says, grinning. Turning off the screen, he gathered his laptop and left the two at the table. Making his way out of the room, he lets out one more comment before exiting, excited to toy with them just once more.

“The files are on both of your desks, and I told someone to move them back together, just for old time’s sake.”

Marinette groaned, looking up at the ceiling as if she was making direct contact with God. _For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she get one thing going her way this morning?_

She places her arms down on the table and brings her head down, wishing she could just sleep there until she had to clock out and go home.

A slide of something on the table brings her eyes up after a moment, watching Adrien lean over with his arm stretched out, hand covering whatever he wanted to give. When his hand moved away and he got back in his seat, Marinette saw the ring, shining up at her.

“It’s yours, you know, even without the case going on,” Adrien says. “I meant what I said last night.”

Marinette felt her cheeks turn red, but she kept her face down, hoping he wouldn’t see. _Last night._ If only the words he said went through her mind, letting her know why her heart suddenly picked up at the sound of his voice, cool and soft.

“Well, I wish I could remember what that was,” she says quietly, the ring as beautiful as ever in front of her.

 _Me too_ , Adrien thought to himself. He gazed as her as she slowly picked it up, watching as Marinette ran her fingers over the cuts in the diamond. And slowly, slid it back on her finger, delicately touching it.

“I’m only putting it on because it’s pretty,” she says, defending herself in case he got the wrong idea. Holding her hand out, she looked at the ring. “It’s too nice to be tucked away somewhere.”

“Like it had been the past two years?” Adrien asks, raising a brow. “Because, that’s where it was, just so you know.”

 _Not this_ , Marinette thinks, lowering her hand and grabbing her bag. She stood up, making her way to door. Turning, she glanced at him over her shoulder at the doorway, watching Adrien as he sat and looked over at her.

“We’re going to be spending more time together, and as much as I know this won’t happen, I hope we can put this whole breakup behind us,” she finally says, knowing she’s right even as she does.

Adrien stood up, grabbing his coffee cup and tossing it in the trash. He stood in the doorway, stopping just a few inches away from Marinette’s face. Smiling down at her, he leaned his head a bit down, as if telling a secret.

“You broke my heart, Bugaboo. How could I put that behind me?” he whispers, pulling back at the last word.

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat; her breathing running ragged as she gazed up at Adrien. As she gazed at his face, with marks and small scars she knew like the back of her hand. Marks she could explain without a falter in her voice because she knew where each and every one had come from. The nick above his eyebrow, from a knife that had came too close for comfort. The small scar just underneath his jaw when he had jumped out a car and cut himself on broken glass. The two little marks on his cheek from when he saw a bug in the shower and slipped trying to get out.

And then, one she couldn’t explain. One that didn’t have a memory behind it, because she wasn’t there for it. One on his neck, a straight line that had just begun to fade away. One that begged the question, _what happened?_

The question almost left her lips, but she caught herself. She kept her eyes on him, looking over the skin she knew so well, before flickering up to his eyes.

She caught his gaze, looking up at the eyes she knew better than anyone else. Bright green, comforting even as she knew all the history that lay behind it. She had opened her eyes so many mornings to catch his looking back at her and had seen it finish her nights time and time again.

Marinette looked up at him, and for a moment, wished there wasn’t anything to put behind them.

And then, like a shot through her heart, she remembered why she couldn’t do that. A memory of Operation Papillion went through her mind, causing her to blink and take a step back, her back brushing against the cool doorway in an attempt at putting more distance between the two.

Straightening her spine, Marinette pulled her eyes away from his face, looking instead at the ID around his neck, which showed a smiling agent looking back at her, one she knew so well.

Adrien Agreste. Her co-worker. Her partner. Her _ex_.

“You’re the last person to decide who broke whose heart, _chaton_ ,” she says finally, adjusting her bag and turning to walk. She tries to rid herself of him, taking quick steps down the hallway to the elevator, but even as she reaches it and clicks it open, she can hear his footsteps following, bent on catching up.

“Buga- _Marinette_!” he calls out, trying to reach her before the door closes. Adrien knew she held some resentment towards him for how things had ended between the two of them, but she clearly couldn’t have meant that. _Him_ breaking _her_ heart? Had she forgotten _she_ was the one who dumped _him_?

“Code names,” she says, enforcing a rule she so often ignored. She stepped into the elevator, standing and harshly hitting the close button as he neared.

“ _Ladybug_ ,” Adrien amends. He slides in just as it closes, Marinette pressing a firm finger to the button leading to their floor and watching the door close, shutting them in. She takes a step to the side, putting ample distance between the two. It doesn’t do much, with the elevator tight enough one could barely take three steps to the other side. Adrien’s shoulders brush her with every jolt of a passing floor.

“I think,” he starts after a moment, “that you and I have very different ideas about what occurred during our breakup.”

“Do we now?” she comments, looking at the screen above them blinking with every floor they go up. _Just three more_ , she notes.

“To put it simply, yes,” he says. “Anything you want to clear up, Ladybug?”

She turns to him, the elevator coming to a stop. It dings, doors opening and giving way to their floor. Flashing a smile, Marinette bites back the witty remark on the top of her tongue, the first time she had thought to even attempt being civil to him all morning. An image of Fu flashed in her mind, reminding her what was more important.

Not breakups. Not exes. No, what was important was finally closing a case she had set her eyes on for years now. A case that was suddenly the most significant thing in her life and couldn’t have distractions such as her failed love life, or the fact her first love and heartbreak was right before her, awaiting an answer to a question she didn’t quite know she knew how to answer.

“I got nothing,” she says at last. Marinette motions her hand to the floor, where should she be right, she would find their desks in the same position it had been in years earlier. “Should we get a jump on our mission, Chat Noir?”

Adrien noticed the sudden formality in her tone, the smile on her face. Marinette hadn’t used his proper code name in quite some time, preferring to shorten it or use some nickname in place. He assumed she was making an effort to be nice, and took it, glad avoid an argument.

Still, he was sure there would be plenty more in the future to make up for this skipped one.

“I guess we should,” he responds. They make for their desks, passing the other agents and bidding hello to all they pass. Looking over, Marinette catches sight of plenty of her friends with widened eyes, hands already grasping their phones and sending messages to what she knew was their group chat. And as if to prove her point, she felt her phone buzz through her bag, letting her know just how fanatic they went at the sight of her and Adrien together.

“Hopefully we can get this handled quickly,” she says, sitting at her desk and grabbing the file.

“Hopefully,” Adrien responds, sounding anything but hopeful.

Marinette skimmed the file, noticing plenty of familiar passages from the first time they did Operation Papillion. Not much had changed, other than last night’s bit of information. The back page however, stapled in, was the thing of most importance to her. It displayed her cover as they investigated, and while reading it, Marinette just _knew_ Fu must’ve decided to fuck with her while he thought it up.

**_Ladybug_ ** _is to be **Chat Noir’s** fiancée and guest to any high-class events necessary for the two while further investigations continue. Should she be questioned as to her **occupation** , she is to respond she works in her family’s bakery and plans to continue working there with **Chat Noir**. **Ladybug** should not hold back in her love for **Chat Noir** and should also assume the role of someone unaccustomed with the upper-class, allowing those surrounding them to ignore her while she works on **Operation Papillion**._

“Not hold back her love,” she muttered, scowling at the words. Had she not respected Fu so much, she would storm up to his office and really let him hear it, but at the memory at what was at stake, she merely shook her head and tried rereading it.

 _Not hold back her love_ , she thought again, unable to get it out of her mind. Just who did Fu think he was, anyway? And who was he to toy with his two best agents, first forcing them to spend the night together on a failed mission, and now keeping them together while they revisited the one case that ruined it all?

 It was a test of their strength for sure, but also a test of just how long she could go without breaking.

Because, while he broke her heart, it wasn’t like Marinette didn’t hold the shattered bits together, piecing them back together at the mere thought of him. It wasn’t like she didn’t feel the weight of the ring on her finger, reminding her with every move that a memory of the two lay on her skin. It wasn’t like she didn’t cast her eyes on that big bruise on his forehead, wondering just how much it hurt and if he properly took care of it, and if he had even rested up.

It wasn’t like she didn’t care. Because she did, of course. However, it was taking all she could to hold back, two years spent running from her home in the hopes of keeping it back. Unleashed, she worried what could sprout of it.

Still, a case was a case, and this one was unlike any other.

And so, looking up at Adrien as his eyes finally finished reading the file and he closed it, she turned her gaze to him.

“Where should we start?” she asked, keeping her distance as she spoke. “Research online? Review the audio files and security cams with Alya and Nino?”

“Well, I think it’d be best to revisit the place where the robbery occurred.”

“Where it occurred?”

“Chloé’s invited me to lunch later today, and she asked if you could come as well.” He placed the file down, grabbing his phone. “She’s not one to shy away from being honest, and I’m sure we’ll be able to get something out of her.”

“She asked for me?” Marinette asks, blinking. She saw on the video of her talking to the blonde but hadn’t expected anything she said drunk would be entertaining, much less enough to have a socialite invite her to lunch of all things.

“You made an impression on her last night,” Adrien says, recalling how bubbly she had been, clinging to him and talking like a proper prep.

“I mean, I’m not sure…” Marinette trailed off. She’d have to run home and find an outfit, and then there was the question of how to act around her.

“I asked to be polite, you know. You don’t really have a choice, not when you’re my fiancée and she’s expecting both of us to show up.”

“ _Fake_ fiancée,” she quickly corrected him.

“Fiancée, nevertheless. And, my partner. We’re a team, remember?”

“I hope you’ll remember that when I drag you places next,” she mutters, making a note in her head to walk Tikki when she dropped by her house for another outfit later.

“And I’m hope you won’t drink so much this time.”

“Of course, I won’t,” she defends. “Who do you take me for, Chat?”

 _It’s not like this was just some ordinary mission_ , she thought.

It was Operation Papillion, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on my social:  
> tumblr- mari-cheres


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